Heading Home

 
What a glorious morning. Rosemary and Izzy were relatively alive after yesterday’s exertions. It didn’t take long to pack or tidy our luxury apartment (thanks Paul) and we were soon heading south towards Edinburgh.
 
The first stop was at a waterfall and pool just off the main road. The lassies didn’t want the hassle of having a swim but I got my trunks on. The initial paddle revealed that the water was freezing and only the hardiest would swim here without a wet suit. I decided that I was a big jessie and that lunch was a better option. Rosemary thought otherwise and dispatched Izzy to get my wetsuit from the car.
 
I’m glad she did because, although the water was bracing, it was an amazing experience trying to swim into the waterfall and so much fun too. I started singing “insane in the membrane, insane in the brain” by Cyprus Hill. 10-15 minutes was enough though with my feet and hands going a very specific red colour from the cold.
 
Getting back to the car we noticed that it had a flattish tyre, the suspected result of hitting an unmarked ramp on the road. As we started pumping it up, we were approach by a funny wee man who had previously been sorting his fishing tackle. This man had a deeply lined face, suggesting a very tough life…..his hands had obviously seen hard work too, and I suspect his house lacked a shower because his skin was discoloured by dirt. I recognised the accent, an Ayrshire one like that of my departed Dad’s family.
 
He was looking for a charger for his phone and gave some unrequired advice on jacking the car up prior to inflating the tyre. “Tutankhamen has visited this place” he said leading me over to look at a rocky outcrop at the side of the forest car park. He showed me a photo on his phone too…… “see that, it’s Tutankhamen’s face there” he said in his thick Ayrshire accent and in all seriousness. “ hmmmm….maybe it’s his Mummy” I said……”wait, no…..it’s Rameses” I said “yes, it’s Rameses” somehow keeping a straight face.
 

“Really, Rameses?” he said “No…..Tutankhamen?” in a tone that suggested that he was taking me seriously. “Definitely Rameses” I responded.  Fearing that this man was a serial killer, we then drove off in the direction of the nearest café and lunch.